


Home Again

by GirlWhoWrites



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Holiday, NSFW, Recovery, Reunion, Romance, Smut, tumblr: JaliceSecretSanta20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28583535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlWhoWrites/pseuds/GirlWhoWrites
Summary: After a falling out years ago, Alice and Jasper find themselves back at the Cullens for Christmas - 'All the movies were wrong. Apparently, you could go home again.'
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22
Collections: Jalice Secret Santa 2020





	Home Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [irrelevanttous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrelevanttous/gifts).



> To Miriam. Happy Holidays. I am so sorry this was so late, but I attempted to write something deserving of your greatness and ended up with something a little bit quirky but hopefully something you'll enjoy. Merry (belated Christmas), Happy Holidays, and I hope 2021 is amazing. <3 Lexie

**alice.** ****

_Breathe in… and out…_

_Buzz._

_In…_

_Buzz._

_And out…_ ****

_Buzz._ ****

Alice opened one eye. ****

Her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.

And she was trying to meditate.

She was about to throw the damn thing in the swimming pool, guided meditation or not. Whoever was calling was not getting the message; she was _not_ picking up. Not at all.

It kept buzzing.

Alice groaned and flopped down on her back - instantly regretting it as dull pain radiated up her spine. Even a top-of-the-line yoga mat couldn’t offer enough padding to stop the pain.

_Buzz._

The sky stretched above her, perfectly blue, and the weather was comfortable. There was no way to tell that it was only a week or so away from Christmas - at least, not the Christmases she had grown up with.

But that’s why she was here. To get away from all that. For a change of scenery. For something new. For peace and quiet.

Or it had been, when she arrived two years ago.

The house in Mexico had been an ostentatious gift for her on her twenty-first birthday, from her parents. It was a bright, sprawling house with a living room that opened onto an infinity pool, and looked out over a private beach. It had been decorated without any expense spared; it belonged in the pages of Architectural Digest or Vogue Living.

And it wasn’t home. It had never been home - it was the residence that her father wanted her to live in, the way that she was expected to live, not what she would have picked for herself. But it was the closest thing to a home she had, and the alternatives were one of her parents’ homes, and that was a last-ditch option. The kind of option that was usually court-mandated. The idea of moving to L.A. and living in that goldfish bowl again made her feel queasy.

No, she’d rather stay in Mexico. It was hardly suffering to live in a luxurious and secure house alone. Millions of people would kill just to stay in such a house, let alone own and living it. It was fine. It was good, in fact.

Sometimes the peace and quiet felt more like she was being smothered. Or that she was the last person left alive.

Giving up on any form of calm, Alice sighed and reached for her phone.

“Hello?"

“Alice, its Mom. How are you, baby?” Alice closed her eyes as her mother’s voice squawked through the phone. She could almost _feel_ the migraine coming on.

“Hey Mom. I’m fine.” She wriggled on her yoga mat, trying to get comfortable - only for her hip to start aching. It just wasn’t her day. “How are you?”

“Oh, you’ll have to speak up sweetie, I’m on speakerphone.” Alice resisted the urge to roll her eyes or hang up. ‘Speakerphone’ was code for ‘I’m giving this conversation 2% of my attention’, rather than the admirable 20% that Marianne Brandon usually bestowed upon conversations with her eldest child. “I am just run off my feet - whatever possessed your sister to elope in _February_ , I swear…”

“Mother, it’s not an elopement if she’s having 70 guests. And she invited them before Halloween. And there’s a reception. That’s just a normal wedding,” Alice said slowly. _The damn wedding._

“She could have waited til June! A June bride is just so _classic_! And she’s decided _against_ the house in Vermont, after all that - she’s now stuck between the Plaza or Central Park in _winter.”_

 _“_ Why not just have it in the L.A. house?” Alice rubbed her head. “The weather will be nicer.”

“Oh, you know Cece - once she gets an idea in her head…”

“She changes her mind two weeks later?” Alice said wryly.

“Oh, be nice! She wants you at the bachelorette party, as well, no matter what. She was _very_ disappointed that you didn’t make the engagement party,” Marianne said sternly.

“She hasn’t invited me to the wedding,” Alice replied flatly.

“ _Elopement._ And she has - she just wants to make sure you have an escort.”

“It’s really not an elopement, Mom. Elopements have, like 6 people in attendance. Cece has had two bridal showers. Vanity Fair has the exclusive. Everyone knows it’s happening.”

“No, it’s going to be such a surprise when she announces it. Oh, Alice, you should see the dress - and the flowers! She’s going to be a trendsetter, I swear. And I saw the most _gorgeous_ Marchesa for you, sweetie, when the time comes.” Alice could hear her mother texting as they talked. “Now, have you spoken to your father?”

“Nope,” Alice popped her ‘p’, feeling like she was sixteen again. Talking to her mother always made her feel tired. Less tired than when she was trying to win their approval, but still tired. Cutting them off entirely would be an _event_ she didn’t have the energy or mental health for.

“Well, you should. He’s your father.”

“He’s the one that left me a _message_ to call his _secretary_ when I woke up, after I came out of surgery the doctors didn’t think I’d survive,” Alice said, irritation in her voice. “I couldn’t _walk_ and he sent me a post-it.” _And you were on a yacht in Greece, filming some gross documentary about the rich and famous. I nearly died, and neither of my parents cared._

“Oh god, you aren’t still going on about that, are you?” Marianne sounded irritated now. “I thought you were seeing a therapist? It was years ago, baby. It wasn’t an intentional slight, we were busy and you were fine!”

Alice scowled and remained silent.

“Look, that’s between you and your father, god knows I don’t need another reason to have to speak with him. He just let me know that he and whichever wife he’s on and their children are spending the holidays in Switzerland, and to make arrangements for you, so I’ll get my assistant to book you a flight out on the twenty-third.”

“No.”

“You can’t sulk in Mexico forever, Alice.” Marianne was getting bored with the conversation now, Alice could hear it in her voice - but it was a new record. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d held her mother’s attention for so long. “It’s not healthy. Now, either you come to New York with me and Cece and Riley, or you go to Switzerland with your father and his new family.”

“I’ve got already Christmas plans,” Alice said, quickly flicking through her phone messages to find something plausible. Something her parents wouldn’t be able to confirm. For god’s sake, she was _twenty-six_ , she didn’t _need_ micromanaging.

“Really? With who?” Marianne was suddenly laser-focused again. “You know, I ran into Alistair the other day, and he was being very strange - stranger than normal, at least - you two haven’t reconciled, have you?”

Alice made a face. That debacle was _not_ one she was proud of. “No. Definitely _not_.”

“It can’t be Dimitri, I saw him with a girl who had the most enormous ring…”

“ _No._ Nothing like that.” Her gaze landed on a text message that was a few days old. Thank god for Aunt Essie coming to the rescue. Again. “It’s Esme.”

“Esme?”

“Aunt Esme, Dad’s sister? The one who I lived with in senior year?” Alice said. “During the divorce?”

“ _Oh._ She invited you to Christmas?”

“For a winter break. She always does a big family Christmas, and I thought it sounded like fun,” Alice lied. “Matching sweaters, carolling, church on Christmas Eve, Secret Santa, the whole shebang.”

“Oh. It sounds… lovely.” It sounded like Marianne Brandon’s idea of hell. “Well, send the details to my assistant and I’ll make arrangements for you.”

“Okay.” Alice breathed a sigh of relief that her mother had bought it. Her Christmas would be like the last two - margaritas, pizza pockets, and as many bad movies as she could queue up, maybe with a painkiller as a treat. And no interruptions.

“Good. Cece sends her love, and we’ll talk to you again before Christmas. Kisses!” And with that, her mother hung up, duty done.

Sighing, Alice stared up at the single cloud that was drifting across the sky. Another Christmas, another year. And whilst she did have more than a few things to be thankful for, sometimes it was easier to think of everything she didn’t have.

Flicking her phone onto silent, she climbed carefully and awkwardly to her feet, all intentions of meditation, yoga, and her physio-enforced exercises gone, thanks to another unwelcome interruption by her mother.

—

Four hours.

Four lousy hours.

That’s all she had between telling the lie that would set her free, and her mother - being _perceptive_ for once in her damn life - informing her father that she had made holiday plans with his estranged sister, and wouldn’t be going to Switzerland.

_Shit._

And _of course_ , her father had called Esme directly to thank her for her generosity in inviting his difficult, miserable, and unpleasant daughter into her home again.

He never called Alice anymore - just text messages and emails, most of them via his assistant. He had been very _disappointed_ by the accident, as if she had been at fault. Frustrated at her broken engagements, at the lack of ambition he perceived her to have. She kind of preferred it that way, honestly. But it still hurt sometimes.

Anyway, now Esme was calling _her._ She really should have pitched her phone into the swimming pool the first time it had rung.

Probably to actually invite her to Christmas. A pity invite.

No, that wasn’t true; and it was unfair. Esme checked on her regularly, always invited her to come visit every Christmas and every summer. There were birthday cards, there were flowers, there were little gifts ‘just because’. Esme had been the one waiting for her to wake up in hospital, looking red-eyed and worried. Had talked to the doctors and the specialists, arranged rehab, let her cry on her shoulder.

She still felt pathetic, though.

“Hello?” she said, trying to sound perky. Why was it so hard? She was supposed to be an actress. A _good_ one.

“Alice! It’s Esme. How are you?” Esme sounded horribly chipper.

“I’m good,” Alice said, but even to her own ears, the words sounded doubtful.

“I’m glad. I just spoke to your father…” _Your father._ Esme never referred to David Brandon-Platt as her brother, and Alice didn’t know the details of the great falling out that had estranged the pair. The fact that Esme had given up on reconciliation said more about Alice’s father than anything else. “And he said something about you coming for Christmas?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d call you. Mom was bugging me about the holidays, and I just needed her to stop…” Alice said miserably.

“Oh.” Esme sounded disappointed.

“I mean, I would love to see you all,” Alice said, realising her mistake. “I miss you! It’s just, there’s less than a week away, and it’s so rude of me to just announce that I’m coming during the holidays…”

“Oh sweetheart, we would _love_ to see you for Christmas!” Esme perked back up. “Rosalie’s planning her wedding, and Edward’s just finished an internship he _loved_ , and Carlisle’s started teaching… I would just love to have the whole family home for Christmas. Your room is right here waiting for you.”

 _Whole family._ Alice bit her lip at the idea she was considered apart of a family. One lousy year of living with them, one bad accident, and Esme considered her one of them.

“… is the 23rd too early?” Alice managed finally, wondering when she’d lost control of her life.

Around the time she was eighteen, definitely.

“It’s perfect. Oh honey, I’m so pleased you’re coming.” Esme was positively giddy. “A lovely surprise for the holidays. Now, make sure you pack warm. I have no idea if you’ve got any clothes left here, and it is freezing - I can pick you up some good boots. Do you need anything else here?”

“Anything else?” Alice frowned.

Esme was silent for a moment. “An extra railing in the bathroom? Something to help you get out of bed?”

Alice felt herself turn red. Esme and Carlisle had been present for her first few weeks out of her fancy rehab, and it had been _ugly._ Being that weak and vulnerable had terrified her. She hadn’t been very pleasant to be around, hadn’t be nice or grateful or even likeable.

“No, I’m doing okay now. I mean, my back’s kind of messed up, and my hip and right leg are a little weak but I don’t need any aids anymore,” Alice said, embarrassed.

“That’s _wonderful_ to hear.” And the way Esme said it, it genuinely was something she thought was wonderful. That she had thought about it and worried about it on Alice’s behalf. “Now, call me tomorrow with your flight details, and I’ll make sure Carlisle and I can pick you up.”

“You don’t have to…” Alice began.

“We want to,” Esme said firmly. “Now, tell me everything that’s been happening. Mexico must be beautiful.”

Alice smiled and began to fill her aunt in.

—

**jasper.**

It was raining. Again.

So much for a white Christmas.

Christmas had never been Jasper’s favourite time of year. It was a time of year that seemed easily corrupted. That if everything wasn’t just perfect, then it was a traumatic failure, doomed to haunt every future holiday until they got it right. It could be something dumb, like burnt-out Christmas lights or the potatoes coming out lumpy. Or it could be something world-changing, like a screaming fight, or a relative getting black-out drunk and breaking their jaw in the middle of puking in the bathroom. On the scale of disasters that could ruin Christmas, somehow, they all rated the same. 

Maybe that seemed bitter. But he’d had more than a few go fantastically wrong.

He’d been nine when his father had died three weeks before Christmas. That had been a downer of a holiday for sure. He remembered the tree and the gifts, but he remembered his mom’s grey face and his sister’s silence, and all the people that checked up on them that day more.

He’d been eleven when his mom had had to pick up shifts over the holidays just to afford things like the mortgage and the utilities. He and his sister had spent Christmas and New Year with his mom’s best friend’s family, and it had been fun, but it hadn’t felt right without his mom there.

He’d been fifteen the year he’d been playing hockey on the pond near the high school, and ended up with a broken leg and a broken hockey stick. He couldn’t remember which thing had pissed him off more, in retrospect.

He’d been twenty-four when his wife moved out and called a divorce lawyer, December 18th.

And now he was twenty-six, living in an apartment that felt empty and impersonal since Maria had gone - she’d taken more than her share of stuff, and demanded more still in the divorce settlement. It was just stuff, but it didn’t really make the apartment feel like home.

Walking along the dark Seattle street, Jasper looked at the few stores with holiday lights in the window, the declarations of ‘happy holidays’. When he and Maria had looked for a place, Maria had insisted in specific apartment blocks in specific areas. They were places they could only just afford - even now, reality was beginning to sink in; he’d probably have to move soon, without Maria’s salary. He’d been coasting by on what he earned at the bookstore, cutting corners in other areas to make ends meet but eventually he would have to face reality.

Most of the stores he passed were high end; the restaurants and bars exclusive. None of it had ever really been his scene; years of his Mom working so hard to make ends meet had taken its tole - hell, he and Rosalie still picked inexpensive cafes and restaurants for celebrations, after a childhood of Waffle House birthday breakfasts, and Dairy Queen report-card treats. Not like the Cullens - they chose restaurants with cloth napkins and waiters every time Emmett and Edward celebrated something, and Rose and Jasper had often tagged along.

Sighing, he adjusted his bag; even this time of year, obligations weighed him down. Books and drafts of his thesis crammed in with his laptop, along with the marking that he’d agreed to do for one of the professors in his faculty. He’d spoken to his advisor this morning before heading to work, snagging some notes before winter break to give himself things to do to fill his time. And his advisor was irritatingly thorough; every time he thought he’d gotten somewhere, he found himself taking two steps backwards. It felt endless, and there was something more than a little depressing the light at the end of the tunnel was just teaching, marking student work, and writing his own papers for publication for the next decade.

Stopping at the crosswalk, Jasper looked at his phone, flicking through the numerous messages on the screen - the few college friends he stilled talked to offering him holiday wishes and mentioning catching up over a beer that would never happen; Rosalie’s numerous messages reminding him to organise gifts and - when she didn’t get a response fast enough - picked something out for him to give and asked for him to send her the money. Emmett sent him through the usual stream of memes, jokes, and demands to help him find a suitable gift for Rosalie.

(How Emmett and Rosalie ended up together, he’d never work it out. But Emmett had asked Rosalie out the summer they were fifteen, promptly taking her go-karting, and other than one two-week period their sophomore year of college, they’d been unshakable.)

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Jasper looked up just in time to see a bus pulled up.

Not just any bus, of course. A bus with one of her campaigns on it - not especially recent, as far as he knew. It must have been a popular one. Smoky eyes stared back at him, with pearl-pink lips and and nothing but sheer pink fabric and diamantés covering her body, clutching a bottle of some outrageously expensive perfume in one hand. She’d been airbrushed and photoshopped within an inch of her life, but she was still beautiful - ethereal and alluring.

Fuck.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her; her photo was always somewhere - a movie poster, a magazine cover, another ad campaign. Maybe because it was Christmas, maybe because it was two years since the divorce and eight months since his last date, but he just... seemed to be noticing more.

It was stupid.

He hadn’t talked to her in eight years, hadn’t seen her in at least four. She’d sent a gift at the wedding; he remembered having to explain to Maria that she was Esme’s niece and she was just being nice because he didn’t want to explain, to go into that bit of history. Maria had barely tolerated how close he was to Rosalie and Esme. He didn’t miss the snarky commentary.

The bus pulled away from the curb, taking more than a few regrets with it, and leaving behind an odd sense of solitude, and Jasper crossed the street.

—

His apartment was dark when he walked in, and it still felt oddly empty. He’d gotten around to replacing the couch and television after Maria left, but not much else. Not that he really needed it.

Flicking on the lights, and dumping his stuff on the couch, he took his dinner into the kitchen. As he cracked open a beer, he felt his phone begin to ring and rolled his eyes. Probably Rose, doing more holiday shopping.

“Hello?”

“Jasper! How are you?”

Esme. His mom’s best friend, his godmother, and pretty much his second mom. The best thing that Meg Whitlock had done for all of them was to move them straight to the town of Forks to be closer with the only support she had left in the world - Esme Cullen. When Meg couldn’t be there, or wasn’t the right parent for the job, Esme and her husband Carlisle had been there. Hell, he and Rosalie had practically had their own bedrooms at the Cullen house. Even now they were grown up, living adult lives, Esme was still there for both him and Rose.

“I’m good, Esme. How’s everything?” Jasper balanced his phone between his ear and shoulder as he opened up his food. Thursday night was a beer and lo mien from the place on the corner. The same order he’d made for three years. The overpriced food delivery service that Maria had insisted on had been unnecessary; he’d always disliked all the luxury conveniences she’d insisted on, from the endless food and alcohol providers, to the VIP memberships and season passes...

He was getting distracted.

“...and Edward is just loving his internship, so I think we’re going to have another round of indecision about med school or law school, but as long as he’s happy, we’re happy,” Esme chuckled. “Anyway, I did call you for a reason! Christmas!”

“Christmas,” Jasper repeated, pushing his noodles around the box. “I think Mom emailed me, but hadn’t confirmed anything yet.” He needed to call his mom. Meg didn’t text, and he always forgot about his voicemail, so they emailed. But he did make a point to call her at least once a week. Or tried - catching Meg between flights was an art form most weeks.

“I just spoke to Meg and to Rose, and they’ve both confirmed they’ll be here. Meg is so looking forward to seeing you and Rose, Jasper. She misses you guys terribly when she’s home.”

“I miss her,” Jasper said reflexively. His mom might have been absent for at least half of his adolescence but she _had_ been a good mom; she’d worked really hard in a difficult job and sacrificed her time with them to make sure they had a roof over their heads and could pay for college. He looked forward to the day that he could take care of her, and she could do something she loved.

“And you’ll be coming?” Esme asked hopefully - and with good reason; the first Christmas after the divorce, he’d stayed home and gotten drunk and hated himself for being a loser and a failure. He’d also made the mistake of answering a video call in the midst of it and everyone at the Cullens’ had seen exactly how miserable he’d been.

Never again. Even the worst Christmas in Forks was better than the best Christmas on his own.

“I’ll be there,” Jasper confirmed.

“Excellent! Everyone’s coming home this year, it’s going to be wonderful - a big family Christmas!” Esme was positively bubbly. “I just have to double check with Bella’s father. I’ll let you coordinate with Meg and Rose, but let me know if you’ll be staying here or at home.”

“I’ll talk to them tonight,” he promised.

“Good. Love you sweetheart,” Esme said. “If you need anything, I’m a phone call away.”

“Love you too, Esme.”

With a click, Esme hung up, and he reached for the remote.

Last Christmas in Forks had been a quiet one - Bella and Edward had been overseas; his mom had snagged back-to-back flights between New York and Chicago; and Rose and Emmett had driven down Christmas morning. He’d enjoyed it - the perfect balm for his second post-divorce holiday. Esme had produced her usual array of delicious holiday food, but they’d ended up sprawled on the couches watching holiday movies with popcorn and laughing over a few old home movies of the kids growing up. It had been nice. Easy.

A big family Christmas meant that ‘easy’ probably wasn’t on the charts. Rose and Emmett were headed down Christmas Eve night, he knew that. His mom got back from her last flight of the year on Christmas Eve as well - he faintly remembered someone mentioning something about Rose picking her up. He’d have to check his email again. Bella and Edward were home this year, and Bella’s father was mentioned, so that probably meant that Charlie Swan’s wife and step kids would be in tow as well.

That sounded unfair. He liked Leah and Seth Clearwater just fine - Leah was a microbiologist who was terrifyingly smart, and Seth was still in college. They were both perfectly pleasant - as was Sue Clearwater. It just felt like a lot of people. And that wasn’t even considering if Carlisle’s cousins would make an appearance, as they had in Christmases past. A typical Cullen holiday involved a never-ending revolving-door of family and friends.

Maria had tolerated those celebrations mostly because of how Esme outdid herself every year - the food, the decorations, the gifts. Every aspect looked and felt like something out of a movie, and Maria had enjoyed that very much, even if she’d never thought much of the Cullens themselves.

It would be fine - a family Christmas. Most likely only people in the know, and close enough not to demand why he wasn’t dating again, how his PHD was going, if he’d remembered to replace the dining room furniture yet. People who wouldn’t think he was being a dick if he slipped away to hide in Carlisle’s study for an hour when everything felt too much.

He kind of dreaded when the time came for Rosalie and Bella to reproduce. The idea of adding little kids to the mix made him feel slightly woozy.

But that was over a week away. He picked up his phone to tap in a reminder to ask Rosalie who they (she) had to organise gifts for, and then settled in to watch TV and finish his food.

—

**alice.**

Time always seemed to move faster when she was dreading something. Didn’t matter what it was - first day of semester at boarding school when she was a kid; first day on set when she started to work. When she was sent to stay with the Cullens in high school. Waiting for surgery, or x-ray results. Every single physiotherapist appointment ever. They all just seemed to sneak up on her, like they had a fast-forward button for time.

Her mom’s assistant had taken care of everything she needed to spend Christmas in Forks - a first class airline seat, a chauffeur to drive her to Forks from SeaTac, all her chosen gifts would be courier delivered Christmas Eve morning. Hell, Giana would have picked out all of the gifts had Alice wanted her to, but that seemed very cold. And it had taken her only an hour or two to pick out things online and send the list through. She was writing her own cards, though. That, she insisted on.

As she disembarked the plane, she ducked her head a little. She wasn’t exactly a prominent media figure these days, but her reclusiveness made her enticing to anyone with a camera and a social media account. She still walked with a visible limp, and high heels made it more obvious. She just… didn’t want to be noticed. She was wearing her glasses instead of her contacts, and she’d dressed casually, so not to look particularly remarkable.

Luckily for her, it worked. The chauffeur was a consummate professional, sweeping her and her luggage away to the waiting car quickly and efficiently, and as the door closed behind her, Alice let out a sigh of relief that no one had spotted her, loudly identified her, made her stare down dozens of autographs and selfies and _questions_ she didn’t want to answer.

Seattle was _freezing_ , though, and Alice shivered under her insubstantial layers of clothing. Another thing Giana was having shipped directly to the Cullens overnight: some damn winter clothing. Her uniform of yoga pants and oversized sweaters that worked so well during a Mexican winter would not help her during a Pacific-Northwest winter. She dreaded the cold, actually; being cold meant being in pain, and Alice had dealt with enough pain to last a lifetime.

The drive to Esme’s home went by quickly; the chauffeur was a nice older man who was happy to chat with her for a little while before lapsing into an amicable silence. The roads were reasonably clear of snow, though Alice had no doubt she’d see more snow than anyone needed by the time she headed back home. Whenever that was - her mother had noticeably provided her with a one-way ticket, as if she was the same underaged hostage she had been the first time that she’d made the trip to Forks; she was more than capable of just booking her own damn flights if she wanted to. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the money.

As the chauffeur pulled up the drive, Alice had to smile. _Definitely_ an all-out Christmas, then. The entire Victorian was trimmed with tiny white fairy lights, as was the garden. Fresh-looking garlands of greenery were wrapped around the railings, woven with red and white ribbons and more lights. Even the pine trees lining the driveway had been adorned with lights.

“Well, isn’t that just the prettiest sight you’ve seen - looks like an old-fashioned Christmas card,” the chauffeur marvelled as they pulled up.

“My aunt _loves_ the holidays almost as much as she loves decorating,” Alice said with a giggle; the small collection of topiary animals down the side of the house had been adorned with fairy lights as well - a long-held Cullen tradition.

“Well, I hope you have a wonderful holiday with them, Miss Brandon. Please let us know if there’s anything else we can do for you,” the chauffeur said with a smile as they both got out of the car.

Before her luggage was even unloaded, the front door flung open and Esme Cullen was hurrying outside with a look of loving exasperation on her face.

“I told you that we would have picked you up!” she scolded lovingly, as she folded Alice into her arms. “It was no trouble, silly girl!”

Alice wrapped her arms around Esme tentatively; the only person who touched her regularly was her physio, and that was strictly professional, with towels - and usually hideously painful. The hug and proximity was something of a shock.

Esme looked well, with her hair twisted into a messy bun at the back of her head, and looking like something out of a catalogue in a plush white sweater and jeans. And she smelt like freshly baked cake, and flowers, and whatever concoction of herbs and spices she’d lined the fireplace with.

“It’s really good to see you, Esme,” Alice finally said, stepping back.

“Oh, sweetie, I was so thrilled when you agreed to come, it’s been too long since we’ve seen you,” Esme grabbed the heavier of her two suitcases, and Alice grabbed the other one, praying she wouldn’t fall or cramp up as she followed Esme into the house.

The Cullen house had always been beautiful - she’d heard stories about what it looked like when Esme and Carlisle had first bought it, and the early years of renovations, but she’d only even seen it as the gorgeous finished product it was. And that was before Esme had been let loose with the holiday decorations - garlands, ribbons, lights, and small ornaments were dotted throughout the entrance and hallway, leading towards the living room and kitchen.

Leaving her things by the stairs, Esme escorted her into the warmth of the kitchen, where the table was already laid out with snacks.

“Carlisle! Alice is here!” Esme sung out. “Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?”

Alice carefully perched on a chair; even just walking from the car had made her cold, and her back was reminding her of that fact. “Some hot chocolate?”

“Of course. How was your flight? The weather in Seattle wasn’t too bad?”

“It was fine. Quiet. No one spotted me, which is half the battle at airports,” Alice said, finally settling into her chair and picking up a cookie. “You weren’t kidding about the cold.”

“It’s been a very picturesque winter so far,” Esme came over carrying two mugs, and picked up her phone. “Oh, I’m sorry - everybody always seems to forget the plan the second they’re put into action; and Bella and Edward are going with Charlie and the Clearwaters to the Blacks for an early celebration tomorrow, so they’ll either get in late Christmas Eve or early Christmas morning. And Meg’s flight got pushed back so Emmett and Rosalie are definitely going to be getting in late - so it’ll just be you, me, Carlisle, and Jasper tonight and for most of tomorrow…”

Alice choked on her mouthful of hot chocolate.

“ _Jasper_?”

Esme looked at her. “Yes, Jasper’s joining us. I know that you two had a falling out when you were staying with us, but it wasn’t that serious, was it?”

Alice shook her head. “No, it was just high school dramatics, I guess,” she said. “I just haven’t spoken to him since. I talked to Rose and Bella for a while but we all got busy.”

It hadn’t been high school dramatics. She’d hurt him, he’d hurt her, and that’s where they’d left it.

Except… he’d been one of the closest friends she’d ever had. He’d actually seen her. He’d cared about _Alice,_ not Mary Brandon-Platt. And there had been _something_ between them, something good. He’d taken her on a date, he’d kissed her a few times, and then it had all gone to shit. No good-bye, just some yelling and some passive-aggressive social media posts, and they were done.

And she was alone again. Rosalie and Bella were nice, but they were Jasper’s people before they were hers, so she understood why they backed off. It wasn’t that long til the end of semester by then, anyway, and she was duly summoned back to New York so it didn’t matter.

That’s what she told herself back then.

Even if after years of boarding school, then years of tutoring on set, it had been the first time she’d been to a normal school, had ordinary friends, been a person instead of a brand, a campaign, a damn set piece.

And adding to that little sore spot, that missed opportunity, was the fact she knew he’d gotten married a few years ago. Had to be going on five years now. She’d seen it on Rose’s social media, and sent a gift, and gone out and done something stupid because it wasn’t like she was still _mooning_ over the boy who hurt her three years later but… it felt like an ending she didn’t want.

He was married, had a college degree, and a loving circle of family and friends, and she had a fucked up body, two broken engagements with douchebags she never wanted to see again, a stagnant career, and a really beautiful house she didn’t even like that much. And a lot of money.

She was becoming bitter at the ripe old age of twenty-six. She hadn’t cared that much when her sister declared her engagement. She’d been happy for her sister.

“It’ll be great to see everyone again - so much has happened!” Alice said, taking another sip of her drink as Carlisle walked into the room.

“Alice! It’s wonderful to see you back in this part of the world,” the doctor said jovially. “How are you doing these days?”

“Very relaxed,” Alice deadpanned, and Carlisle laughed as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the counter. Impulsively, Alice looked at her cup and then looked back at him. “You and Esme should visit - the house is right on the beach.”

Esme looked touched and Carlisle looked surprised. “That would be wonderful, Alice,” Carlisle marvelled. “It’s been a few years since I ventured down to Mexico.”

“You’re magic; this man hasn’t planned a vacation since the boys were in high school and here you are, getting him to agree to leave the country,” Esme shook her head. “But you’re planning on staying in Mexico another year?”

Alice nodded, keeping her expression light and calm. “I’ve got a great physiotherapist, the beautiful house… another year is hardly a punishment.”

“Hmm,” Esme said. “You’re there all by yourself?”

“No, it’s a gated community with security but it’s very private - you can only just see the neighbours,” Alice said. “The beach is mine, though.”

Esme exchanged an indecipherable look with Carlisle. “Well, I’m happy that you’re safe.”

The conversation naturally turned away from her, and onto the top of Rosalie and Emmett’s upcoming wedding, and Edward’s future plans, and it was nice. Easy.

It was good to be back.

—

**jasper.**

Pulling up the drive, Jasper learnt two things.

The first was that his ancient truck was probably about to kick the bucket - it wasn’t going to see the end of winter, at this rate. Thank fuck he hadn’t bothered with new tires yet.

The second was that no matter what, Esme always went fantastically overboard with holiday decorations. He chuckled as he noticed the topiary animals - a hold over from Edward and Emmett’s childhoods that Esme couldn’t bare to get rid of - had even been adorned with lights and ribbons.

He’d spoken to his mom, and Meg’s flight had been delayed - she’d been frantic, terrified that she was missing _another_ Christmas, especially now they were adults with lives that couldn’t be rescheduled at the whim of Meg’s timetable. He’d calmed her down, reassured her that it would be fine if she was late, and if Rose had any problems, he’d drive down himself to get her.

And he wasn’t worried that his old house was locked up - he’d crash at Esme and Carlisle’s. Esme probably still had a million things on her to-do list, and he was happy to help out.

Rosalie was equally as stressed, but that was just Rose any time there was a family gathering. She’d confirmed with him that Charlie Swan and the Clearwaters were coming, and had immediately headed off to find extra gifts for both of them to give.

Maybe it was weird, still doing joint gifts with his sister when she was married, but he figured he had an excuse until Rosalie started having kids, or he was divorced five years. Whichever came first.

Walking around the back of the house to let himself in the kitchen, Jasper smiled at the view through the glass wall - the huge tree that was already decorated and lit (with the family collection of both heirloom and home-made ornaments), the bunting and garlands, and just the cosy and picturesque scene that Esme had created in anticipation of the ‘kids’ returning home.

“Hey!” Jasper called out as he walked into the kitchen, slinging his duffle bag to the floor. “Anyone home?”

Esme appeared on the stairs, beaming. “Jasper! How was your drive, honey?”

Immediately, he was swept into a hug.

“Fine; I think that my truck is on its way out though,” he said. “Good to see you Esme.”

As he pulled back, he smiled to see Carlisle coming up behind Esme, and behind him…

Alice.

_Alice._

She was still as beautiful as ever, though terribly thin - she somehow looked smaller now than she was in high school.

He thought back to the bus ad, the petal pink colour on her lips and the filmy pink fabric obscuring her body…

She was standing awkwardly, with her head slightly down, looking unsure. And, with a swoop of horror, Jasper realised that the last time she’d seen him in person, he’d been yelling at her. Calling her names and throwing a temper tantrum over his stupid pride. She’d tried to defend herself at first before giving up. She’d just stood there with her head bowed and hadn’t said a word when he stormed off, back to his house.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been broken and unconscious in a hospital bed and all the surgeons were warning Esme and Carlisle that they would do their very best for the half-dead movie star on the gurney, but there were no guarantees.

He’d stayed four days, before he’d had to go home. Meg had been good enough to get him a cheap airline ticket, and the bookshop had given him the rest of the week off, but that was it. And Maria had harassed him endlessly about _why_ he had to go.

It probably hadn’t been a good sign for his marriage that he never mentioned Alice to her beyond being Esme’s niece. That he was scared to inform Maria that someone he had cared about - _a lot -_ was probably going to die and he wanted to be there in case, because he knew Maria would be jealous, that any attention he gave to other woman was just less attention she was getting.

He’d left Alice with Esme in the hospital room, connected to an infinite number of wires and tubes, and a prognosis of ‘stable but critical’. They wouldn’t know how bad the damage was until she woke up. And he couldn’t wait around to find out. So he went home, leaving a bunch of pink and yellow flowers from the hospital gift store in his place.

Later, Esme had assured him she was ‘doing well’, but the few photos of her that popped up in the media afterwards showed her as frail; usually in a wheelchair or with some kind of crutches and always with an anonymous companion by her side. She’d vanished right before Maria left, he remembered that. Put her social media accounts on ‘private’ and released a statement about ‘needing privacy during recovery’. It had been a popular topic of conversation for a week - the wounded movie star retreating from the spotlight. He hadn’t had her contact details in years by then, and facing down his divorce, it never seemed like a good time to ask Esme for a phone number or email address. Just to see how she was. That she was going to be okay.

And now she was here.

“Alice!” he managed, eyes wide.

“Hi. Merry Christmas,” she said, offering him a small smile.

“Merry Christmas. It’s great to see you,” he managed, feeling like bumbling fool. “You too, Carlisle.”

“You look well, Jasper,” Carlisle said, with a smile that indicated Carlisle knew exactly the effect Alice had had on him. “Come into the kitchen - Esme has snacks, and we’ve got coffee or tea.”

Alice said something in a low voice to Esme and disappeared back up the stairs. He found himself disappointed. But he didn’t look back, following Esme and Carlisle into the kitchen.

“I, uh, didn’t know that Alice would be here,” Jasper said, as he took a seat at the kitchen table. Carlisle gave him a knowing look as Esme got Jasper a cup of coffee.

“Yes, I finally got her to join us for the holidays!” Esme said, sitting down. “I really hated the idea of her rattling around in the ridiculous house all by herself. And I don’t count a physiotherapist or video calls with a therapist as company myself.”

“You’ve seen her house?” Jasper said, deciding not to pull at the medical information.

“I’ve seen glimpses of it - I tried video chat a few times, and I got a few photos, but mostly, I know her father. It would be enormous and expensive,” Esme said, frowning. “She hasn’t mentioned when she’s heading back yet, but hopefully she’ll be able to stay through New Year as well. We haven’t seen her in so long, and she’s doing so well.”

“Too thin,” Jasper murmured, and then looked away. It wasn’t his place to comment on how she looked.

“I don’t disagree,” Esme said smoothly. “Now, how’s your thesis going? And you’re still at the bookstore, yes?”

“Yeah, still at the bookshop, still slaving over the thesis and an absolute ton of marking,” Jasper sighed. “I brought a pile of it with me to catch up.”

“Don’t let yourself burn out, Jasper,” Carlisle said. “Academia can be tricky to balance, and more than one incredible mind has walked way rather than take a break.”

“Maybe,” Jasper said, looking into his coffee cup. “So, tell me what’s being going on around here?”

—

Despite his offer, Esme insisted on a home-cooked meal for both him and Alice on their first night home, shooing him away to amuse himself as she began preparing what would most likely be the best meal he’d eaten since last time he visited.

Slipping through the house, he decided to take his bag up to his old room - Carlisle had always said that one of the benefits of renovating what had been an abandoned, derelict house was that they had more than enough bedrooms for the entire family - including Jasper and Rosalie.

And Alice. Her room had always been ‘Alice’s room’, even after she left. He’d never realised that before now. He remembered it perfectly - the clutter of make-up across the dresser, the bed with way too many pillows, the sticker-covered laptop on the desk. At least one pair of shoes discarded in the middle of the room, and the closet doors that never completely closed because of her enormous collection of clothes.

He stopped at the top of the stairs to find Alice standing there, staring up at the wall of photographs Esme had framed, starting with Emmett and Edward’s baby photos, and going right up to Bella and Edward’s wedding. He was certain that Esme already had a frame ready for Rosalie and Emmett’s wedding portraits.

“Hey,” he said, standing beside her.

“Hey,” she shot him a smile and then looked back. “I can’t believe Esme did this.”

“Getting Esme out from behind the camera is a battle,” Jasper joked, before following her gaze.

The photo was taken at Halloween, Senior Year for him, Alice, Rose, and Emmett. Edward and Bella would have been… sophomores or juniors. All six of them were posed together in their costumes, grinning at the camera. His photo-self had his arm around Alice, who was leaning against him with the brightest smile on her face. She looked like a different person, without a care in the world.

“I didn’t know she’d taken photos of me, and kept them like this,” Alice said, gesturing up at another, from that Thanksgiving, which was all six kids posed in front of the fireplace in formal clothing. Except Emmett was pulling a face, Rosalie was rolling her eyes, Bella and Edward were talking to each other, and he and Alice were laughing.

“You were part of the family,” Jasper shrugged. “Look, I need to say something.”

Alice visibly stiffened, and she looked at him nervously. “Yes?”

“I didn’t know you’d be here, so I wasn’t prepared. And I just really want you to know that I am… so fucking sorry for everything that happened in senior year,” Jasper ran a hand through his hair. “I was a total jerk and I did it on purpose to hurt you because I was just… an idiot kid. It’s inexcusable and you have every right not to forgive me, but I needed to…”

“You’re forgiven.”

He looked at her, staring back at him with big grey eyes and an unsure smile on her face.

“What?”

“I forgive you,” Alice tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “It… we hurt each other. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. But it was eight years ago, and it was Christmas - it just seems silly to hold onto that kind of grudge. So I hope you accept my apology, too.”

Jasper stared at her. As if she owed him anything, let alone an apology.

“Alice…” he began, but he looked at her hopeful, earnest face and shook his head. “I don’t think you have anything to apologise for, not at all, but if it means that much to you, I accept your apology.”

“Thank you,” Alice smiled again - not as brightly as she had in the photos, but still more than he’d seen from her in a long time. “It’s good to see you again, Jasper.”

“You too, Alice.”

And it was.

—

**alice.**

Seeing Jasper again felt like stepping off a set and back into reality. Or maybe that was just being in the Cullen home again. Even when everything had gone wrong, Esme’s home been a sanctuary, a place she only associated with good things.

They’d had dinner together, and it had been cosy - Esme had always been an incredible cook, and she hadn’t eaten so much in years. Carlisle had asked numerous questions about her health and her rehab, obviously concerned for her well-being.

It didn’t even occur to her until after they’d all said good night and headed to bed what was niggling at her, what had felt slightly off about Jasper’s arrival.

Where was his wife?

She hadn’t noticed him wearing a wedding ring, but rings weren’t everyone’s thing, so maybe he didn’t wear one. Maybe she’d gone to see her family over the holidays instead of coming to Forks. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

(Maybe it was over. Maybe what she thought was an ending was just a blip. Like her own brief engagements. A thing that happened and didn’t stick. Maybe…)

She shook her head and tried to dismiss the thought as she climbed into bed, her leg aching after such a long, cold day. She was exhausted and she couldn’t bear the idea of lying awake for hours, waiting for the burn in her thigh to settle, so she managed to reach over and grab her pills. If nothing else, they’d help her sleep.

—

Christmas Eve dawned bright, and Alice had awoken to some rare Forks sunshine steaming onto her face. When she’d made it downstairs, Esme was just dishing up breakfast clad in a spotless cream coloured dress, pumps, and a reindeer-print apron.

“Good morning, Alice,” she said, motioning for Alice to take a seat. “Right on time. I was just telling Jasper that I would love some assistant elves today.”

“Assistant elves?” Alice repeated, as Carlisle passed her a carafe of orange juice.

“I have a shift today at the hospital, and Esme still has a to-do list before everyone arrives tonight,” Carlisle said. “If you and Jasper aren’t busy…”

Alice shook her head. “Not busy at all. I might have a few deliveries arrive today,” she said, taking a bite of her eggs.

“Jasper?” Esme said hopefully, spooning fruit onto her plate.

“Anything you need, Esme,” Jasper replied, as he finally looked up from his coffee mug.

“You both are too good to me. Okay, I need you to get the dining room decorations out of the garage for me - there’s three boxes, they’re all labelled by holiday,” Esme began, scrolling through her phone, “and there are some parcels waiting to be picked up at the post-office, and we need two dozen chocolate sprinkle doughnuts for breakfast tomorrow, or Emmett will riot.” Esme rolled her eyes at that. “I will never forgive your mother for that particular tradition,” she said, brandishing her phone at Carlisle. “Donuts for Christmas.”

“ _Chocolate-sprinkle_ doughnuts,” Carlisle corrected absently, and Esme poked out her tongue.

“And there’s some of my work things in Edward’s room that need moving back into my studio,” Esme finished. “Nothing too heavy or difficult, just some models and samples. I’ve got to start the cooking, or we’ll all be having peanut butter sandwiches for Christmas lunch.”

“And I bet it would be the best peanut butter sandwich ever made,” Alice said solemnly.

“Suck-up,” Jasper murmured, and she made a face at him before they both grinned.

“Children,” Esme looked delighted at their exchange. “You can take the Mercedes, it has snow-tires. Everything is paid for, but I’ll give you my credit card in case. And I am definitely not cooking tonight, so decide if you want to order pizza or Thai food or will definitely will be having peanut butter sandwiches. And we need to order extra for all the late-arrivals.” Esme nodded at her phone and returned to her breakfast. “Are you staying here tonight, Jasper?”

“Probably. Mom too, if there’s space - her last flight isn’t scheduled to get in until at least 7pm, with no further delays,” Jasper said, reaching for a second blueberry muffin. “I don’t really want to head home around midnight to a cold house.”

“Of course not. I’ll make up the bed in the study for Meg, or she can take Rose’s old room,” Esme said. “Remind me to get a copy of her new keys made - this is silly, I could have gone over there yesterday and gotten the house ready for you all.”

“And miss spending time with you and Carlisle?” Jasper said. “Never.”

“Now who’s the suck-up?” Alice said with a grin.

“Enough,” Esme was definitely in her element. “If you can call each other names, you can both get to work - I want to have enough time tonight to watch a movie together.”

“Yes Esme,” they both said in sync, moving to stack the breakfast plates.

—

The first task was fairly straight forward - the rest of the holiday decorations tucked away in the garage. Esme was a consummate organiser and, like most thing, ‘garage’ was not really an accurate descriptor for the building. Yes, there was space for the Cullen cars, though only two remained since Emmett and Edward had moved out. But behind that was what Edward had dubbed ‘The Room of Organisation’, where all seasonal items were organised and labelled in numerous boxes, in a filing system that only Esme really understood and the rest of the household had learned to decipher. Everything from ‘Sporting Equipment - Baseball’, to Decorations - Halloween - Garden’ were stacked neatly, floor to ceiling. And whilst alphabetising the boxes might have made sense to anyone else, Esme’s system had something to do with the location of where the box contents would be used.

So they had to hunt.

“Esme kept all the old slip and slides?” Alice said incredulously. “The last time I saw those was…”

“Halloween Jelly Slide,” they said in unison, Jasper grinning and Alice shaking her head.

“We were going to try out Jelly Slide 2.0 for my bachelor party, but didn’t make it down here,” Jasper said absently. “And Edward refused. I guess Eddie and I should get it ready for Emmett’s as a surprise.”

“I can’t believe Emmett and Rosalie aren’t married yet - I thought they’d be the first ones down the aisle,” Alice said, trying to ignore the reference to Jasper’s marriage. “They were always the perfect couple.”

“Oh, Rose considered it,” Jasper said, frowning at a box of ‘Summer - Humour - Garden Gnomes’, “but Rose also wants a big wedding, and she wanted to finish with school before she got married.”

“She went into tech, didn’t she?”

“Medical Robotics and AI; she got her Masters two and a half years ago. The company she works for is a start-up, so it’s not exactly conducive to a huge salary yet,” Jasper said. “But the patents she’s working on are really cool, I think it’s going to be incredible.”

“And Emmett? And Edward?”

“Uh, Emmett actually works for a not-for-profit making sports accessible for lower-income families; he loves it, he spends a lot of time playing football and messing around with kids. Edward got his undergrad two years ago, and has basically been bumming around doing internships and volunteering whilst he decides between law or medicine; Bella works as a substitute English teacher. Oh, I think I’ve got something.”

Alice moved around the corner of the shelving to find Jasper in the corner. She frowned as she limped forward - she’d been trying to ignore the pain in her leg and hip all morning, but it was slowly getting worse. As Jasper hauled the first box down off the shelf and handed it to her, Alice felt her balance tilt, and hurriedly dumped the box onto the ground.

“Sorry, I don’t think I’m going to be much use for this part,” Alice said, wincing as her hip and leg screamed at her. The usual dull ache had gotten worse, and had moved past ‘burn’, dragged her hip into the mix, and now her right knee felt numb. The cold really wasn’t any friend of hers. “The accident messed me up. I’m kind of useless now.”

The silence was awkward, and Alice hated that she’d caused it.

“I don’t know if this I should ask,” Jasper said slowly. “But the accident - what actually happened?”

She looked over at him, carefully pulling the boxes Esme needed out of the shelving unit.

“The accident?” she said.

“Yeah. I mean, Esme told us that you’d had one, but not what actually happened,” he pulled one box down and made a face at the contents before putting it back. He looked over his shoulder. “I know it was serious.”

Alice sighed, and sat down on the exercise bench. “Um, yeah, it was. I was on set and it was the worst stunt I’d ever been asked to do, and I should have passed it off to the stuntwoman but the director broke it down for me and I knew I could do it. It was just… a lot.” She shook her head. “I could have done it, too, but the rigging was messed up somehow. Faulty or badly assembled, I guess - I don’t know the details - I can’t read the paperwork, it’s just too much. But the rigging snapped, I hit the ground from around three stories and rolled.”

Jasper was looking at her in blank-faced horror.

“I don’t remember much of that day - head trauma, but I have a few ‘flashes’ of moments; like I can remember staring down at the ground, and I can remember yelling and the sound the rig made when it broke. But I don’t remember anything else until around two months after I woke up in hospital. Esme had to get me flashcards to remind me of everything. Apparently, I was waking up and asking the same questions every day,” Alice was looking at her knees now.

“But you recovered,” Jasper said, though it sounded more like he was asking a question.

“Sort of,” she shrugged. “On the plus side, my parents went after the production company with a score to settle, and the settlement for me and the other people involved pretty much killed their business.”

“Jesus.” Jasper sat the last box down, and just looked stunned. “At least you’re okay.”

Alice barked out a sharp laugh. “If you call this ‘okay’,” she muttered. “I’m better now, I’m walking on my own - with a limp.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Jasper said kindly. She appreciated it, even if it was a lie.

“That’s sweet of you,” she said. “I know it’s noticeable. It’s bad enough that my sister won’t invite me to her wedding unless I have an escort. I think she thinks I can bring some guy who’ll let me use him like a crutch, I guess.”

“Cynthia’s getting married?” Jasper motioned for her to slide over, and he sat down beside her.

“She’s ‘eloping’ in February, so of course everyone knows about it and the rights to the pictures have already been sold,” Alice rolled her eyes. “I’ve barely had a non-wedding conversation with her or mom since Riley proposed. If he proposed. Cece might havejust told him to propose.”

Jasper snorted. “And you aren’t going?” he said.

“Not unless I find an acceptable escort,” Alice admitted. “I suspect Mom might be pushing for Alistair, and that is just never happening. Ever. It shouldn’t have happened the first time… and I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay. I was wondering that… I heard you were engaged, but you’re here alone and…” Jasper trailed off.

“Engaged twice, married never,” Alice said. Why was it so damn easy to talk to him? It felt like nothing had changed, really. He was still that easy-going guy who’d befriended her the second she’d arrived at the Cullen’s.

“Bad break-ups?”

“Bad ideas. Both were set-ups, and both had ‘agreements’ with my father,” Alice closed her eyes. “I have no idea why he thought it was a good idea, beyond getting rid of me. They would have ended in a divorce _weeks_ later.”

“I can’t imagine anyone wanting to get rid of you, Alice,” Jasper said, looking at his hands. “Divorce or otherwise.”

Alice blinked. That was… what was he trying to say?

“You didn’t have to deal with me during rehab,” she said, trying to make a joke. “I was a monster - _I_ wanted to get rid of me. Esme deserves some kind of medal dealing with me like that.” She searched her mind for a change of topic. “On the topic of absent spouses… your wife couldn’t make it?”

Jasper visibly froze before shaking his head. “Maria and I divorced two years ago,” he said.

“Oh, I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Alice felt like an idiot. She should have asked Esme quietly, instead of bringing up bad memories.

“No, we were a bad match. I think we were both in a hurry to grow up, be ‘real’ adults, and all that,” Jasper said, “and we didn’t want the same things. We brought out the worst in each other.” He stood up and then offered Alice his hand, like a gentleman. “I didn’t even miss her when she left. I think that was a good indicator that we shouldn’t be married anymore.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry that you aren’t happy,” Alice said, taking Jasper’s hand and letting him pull her to her feel, trying not to flinch at the twinge in her hip.

He smiled at her, that crooked smile that had somehow only gotten cuter over the years.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

And then they gathered up Esme’s boxes and headed back into the house.

—

**jasper.**

Esme’s list might have sounded harmless, but as Jasper heard his phone chime again, he wondered if he shouldn’t have volunteered him and Alice for kitchen prep instead. She’d added a last-minute run to the Gas-N-Gro for more flour, a can of whipped cream (“Emmett,” they both said when they saw the list), a mysteriously necessary pint of salted caramel ice cream, another two dozen eggs, and an extra pound of potatoes.

“I hope that means we’re making latkes on the 26th,” Alice said brightly, as they took the groceries back to the car. “When I was a kid, Dad always claimed Grandma Platt made the best latkes in the world. The only time he talked about her, honestly.”

“If Emmett’s got anything to say about it, we will,” Jasper said, hoisting the bags into the back of the Mercedes. Along with the unexpected grocery run, they’d also been sent on a sudden trip to the dry-cleaner for a forgotten order, and they’d collected the parcels from the post office - which Esme had grossly underestimated, as it had taken them both two trips to retrieve them all.

“Okay, so what’s left?” he said, as they climbed back into the Mercedes.

“Donuts,” Alice said, looking at her phone. “Esme ordered them for pick-up.”

“Donuts,” Jasper repeatedly dutifully, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Two dozen seems like a lot,” Alice said dubiously, a lock of hair falling into her eyes.

“Not at Christmas,” Jasper said. “You remember what Emmett’s like? He eats like six the second he hits the kitchen, and everyone else decides to treat themselves because it’s a holiday and bam, the box is empty and Carlisle just stands there looking like someone killed a puppy in front of him because he always waits til the end of the meal to have one. Every year, like clockwork.”

Alice giggled. “I remember the doughnuts,” she said. “I never had one, though.”

“That I remember. I think Esme spent most of that summer and senior year begging you to eat something that wasn’t lettuce or green tea,” Jasper shook his head.

“Years of diet indoctrination. A meth habit would have been less embarrassing than a breakfast doughnut,” Alice said solemnly as they pulled in front of the Forks’ Bakery. “Nowadays, all bets are off.”

“Really?” Jasper was not convinced. She was all skin and bone.

“Really. I’ve even been known to eat french fries these days,” she whispered with a conspiratorial grin.

He gasped in mock horror. “Fries? Man, you went from 0 to 100 real fast there. You need to pace yourself.”

“Oh? You’re an expert?”

“As someone, somewhere once said, I spent college living like a goddamn ninja turtle - just pizza and beer for four goddamn years. I know my junk food,” Jasper laughed, as Alice turned vaguely green.

“I’m not going to say no to pizza, but beer?” Alice shuddered and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Let’s get Emmett his doughnuts.”

—

The rest of the afternoon passed in a daisy-chain of small tasks, from folding napkins (he mastered the ‘fold in half’ which had sent Alice into peels of laughter; that had been nice), to icing a veritable army of gingerbread cookies, and making sure all of the bedrooms were fit for occupancy (it was Esme’s house, that was a no-brainer, but they humoured her.)

Carlisle brought take out home with him - four huge bags of food that smelt a hell of a lot better than Thursday Night Lo Mein, and Esme had banished them from both the freshly-decorated dining room, and the head-of-operations kitchen, leaving them to each dinner in the living room, watching holiday movies.

Alice vetoed half a dozen from recent years without explanation, though Jasper suspected they either featured her mother or her sister, or were produced by her father. He didn’t care. It was a good night, no matter what they watched.

Halfway through one of his favourites, he heard the familiar sound of someone walking around the side of the house, and looked over in time to see Emmett, Rose, and Meg walking in the back door, laden with luggage.

“I’m home!” Emmett loudly declared, and Esme jumped with a cry before darting over to drag her eldest son into a hug, Carlisle not far behind. He jumped over the back of the couch to pull both Meg and Rosalie into a hug - it had been too long since they’d been together.

“Oh, Jasper, I’ve missed you so much!” Meg hugged him tightly back and then looked at him hard. “You look well.”

“You do,” Rosalie was looking past him, at the figure still on the couch before looking back to her brother. “Glad you could make it.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said, hearing a voice fake-cough “suck-up” in the background.

“Tell me there’s food,” Emmett said, peering into the kitchen eagerly.

“Stay out of there, young man,” Esme said sternly. “The food is on the coffee table, I’ll get you some drinks.”

Jasper headed back to the sitting room, where Alice was waiting with the film on pause. Meg was smiling at her, chatting politely as she fixed herself a plate and took a seat.

“I had no idea you were coming this year, Alice,” Meg said. “It’s really good to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs Whitlock,” Alice smiled, and god he loved that smile.

Fuck.

“Call me Meg, please. Rose, Emmett, did you know Alice was joining us this year?” Meg looked up as her daughter and her son-in-law joined them.

“Nope. It’s great to see you again, Squirt,” Emmett said with a boyish grin. “I don’t think you’ve grown at all.”

“The growth spurt is coming, I swear,” Alice laughed. “It’s really good to see everyone.”

“Hello?” came another call, and everyone looked over to see Edward and Bella lingering in the doorway. “Merry Christmas Eve everyone!”

As Carlisle, Esme, and Emmett descended on Edward and Bella, Jasper settled back in his position next to Alice, who was nibbling at what he personally thought was a particularly small portion of food.

“Better than Christmas in Mexico so far?” he asked in a low voice. Alice looked thoughtful.

“Less margaritas and pizza pockets, but so far, yes. Much better,” she smiled at him again. “How about Christmas in Seattle?”

“The worst Christmas that you can imagine here trumps the best Christmas in Seattle, I promise you that,” he replied, reaching for another egg roll.

“It can’t have been that bad,” Alice said.

“You said pizza pockets and margaritas? I raise you whiskey and ramen,” he said.

“Whiskey and ramen, huh? I raise you a few too many Vicodin as dessert,” she said, and suddenly what they were joking about didn’t seem very funny at all.

“What are you two talking about?” Rosalie asked as Bella and Edward came over to get some food.

“Bad Christmas traditions,” Alice offered. “Or just bad Christmases, I guess.”

“Like Maria,” Bella said, rolling her eyes. “Sorry Jas, but she was a terror every year.”

“Maria?” Alice asked, and he really didn’t want to get into the whole ‘ex-wife’ thing.

“Jasper’s ex. Every single year, she’d come for Christmas and treat the place like a hotel. Look down her nose at every single gift. It was so hard to be around her,” Bella explained, sitting in front of the fire.

“You aren’t wrong,” Jasper offered. Because it was true. Maria had liked the perceived status of the Cullen holiday celebration, but nothing else. And how many times had he maxed out his credit cards to please her gift demands?

“Oh let’s not talk about that,” Esme said, bringing around a tray of drinks. “It’s Christmas Eve and the family is together, and we’re going to have a lovely day tomorrow. We’ll do gifts before breakfast so we don’t have to rush.”

Gifts.

“Did you get doughnuts?” Emmett looked up from his bowl with a suspicious look on his face.

_Gifts._

“Two dozen chocolate sprinkle, like you insisted,” Esme sighed and Emmett beamed, returning to his dinner.

Shit.

He hadn’t known Alice was coming, he hadn’t gotten her anything.

She was listening to something Edward was saying, completely distracted.

Christmas Eve and he had nothing to give her. And this was Alice - her damn slippers were probably worth more than his truck, it wasn’t like he could just email her a Sephora gift card and call it a day.

The knowledge that he didn’t have a damn thing to give Alice sat heavily in his chest through the rest of the meal, and as everyone headed up to bed. Alice had slipped away with a smile and a nod for him, and that made him feel worse.

“Why do you look like someone just stabbed you with a fork?”

He turned around from packing the dishwasher, to find Rosalie standing with her hands crossed over her chest.

“You went from Good Mood Jasper, to Weird Mood Jasper in less than ten seconds,” Rose said, walking into the kitchen proper. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t know Alice was going to be here, I don’t have any gifts for her,” he admitted.

“Oh, is that all,” Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Come with me.”

Jasper followed his sister up to the first floor and into Emmett’s room. The sports and bikini posters had long since been banished, and Rosalie had the suitcases laid out, as well as a cardboard box piled with perfectly wrapped gifts.

“Esme gave me the heads up,” she said. “I guess she thought I would mention it.” Sorting through the presents, she set several aside. “These are yours for Mom, Esme and Carlisle, and Bella and Edward. Oh, you bought me and Emmett a new speaker for the kitchen. I’ll send you the receipt.”

“I was generous this year,” he said archly.

“I know,” Rose said sweetly. “Here. It’s nothing over the top. I found a small designer she likes - according to social media - and got her this cute necklace.”

“Thank you,” he said seriously.

“Don’t do anything fantastically stupid, okay?” Rose said. “I’m tired of watching you mope over girls. It’s boring.”

“Who’s moping over girls?” Emmett walked in, drying his hair. “Wait, Jasper has a girl?”

“Jasper does not have a girl,” Jasper sighed, picking up the gifts.

“Jasper’s been staring at a girl all night,” Rosalie said. “As if the last time you two attempted whatever it was, it didn’t end in disaster."

“To be entirely fair, Rosie, I don’t think anyone could have predicted that outcome,” Emmett said, tossing his towel in the hamper. “‘My girlfriend’s a secret movie-star who I used to jerk it to?’ Wouldn’t be the worst country music song in the world, actually. But, seriously, no one could have prepared for that.”

Rosalie and Jasper just stared at him.

“Your mind is a strange and disturbing place,” Jasper said finally. “Rose, I just…”

“No, stop,” Rosalie held up her hand. “I’m not telling you what to do or not do, I promise. I’m telling you not to anything fantastically stupid, not to mope, and if you do decide to do the thing I think you’re thinking of doing, don’t blow it this time.”

Silence.

“Twins,” Emmett shook his head.

“I’m not going to do anything,” Jasper sighed, turning to leave

“Of course not,” Rosalie said.

“You are absolutely convincing both of us right now,” Emmett said solemnly.

“I hate you both,” Jasper said, as he shut the door behind him.

“Thanks for the speakers, Jas!” Emmett called out, and all he could do was shake his head.

—

**alice.**

It was Christmas.

Rolling over, Alice could hear movement downstairs - Esme and Meg most likely enjoying a cup of coffee before organising breakfast; Carlisle was getting the fire started, and everyone else was getting ready for breakfast. She remembered it well.

Her presents - and winter clothes - had been delivered the previous day, as promised, and sat at the end of her bed, ready for her. She’d sat up writing cards, and hoping that it would be a nice day. A day where she didn’t feel like an outsider looking in, where she wasn’t constantly aware of the pain, and where she just had a good time.

Changing out of her pyjamas and into a plush sweater and some leggings for gift-opening, Alice gathered up her presents and headed downstairs.

“Merry Christmas, Alice,” Edward said as she reached the bottom of the stairs, taking the gifts from her.

“Merry Christmas, Edward,” she replied with a smile.

The pile of presents surrounding the tree was just as ridiculous as it was eight years ago, she marvelled as she took a seat in the corner. It really did look like a picture out of a magazine.

Esme hustled everyone into the sitting room, Meg following behind carrying a tray of hot chocolate, as everyone settled around the tree.

Edward looked adoringly at Bella, and stood up. “Before we get started, there’s something that Bella and I would like to tell you all,” he said, and Esme gasped and leant forward, her eyes wide.

“If this is just about whether you’ve finally decided on law school or med school, you’ve ruined Christmas,” Emmett said boldly, tossing a gift at Jasper’s head, and Edward flipped his brother the finger.

“Bella and I are excited to announce that… we’re pregnant.”

Esme squealed with joy, and launched herself at Bella, Carlisle standing to pull Edward into a bearhug.

“Congratulations!” Meg was practically bouncing, before eyeing her own children. “What do I have to do to get some grandchildren, hmm?”

“Be patient,” Rosalie said with an imperial nod, and Alice started giggling.

“Can we get to the presents now?” Emmett asked, picking up a box and shaking it. “I know there’s an Xbox amongst one of these gifts.”

—

The gift-giving was a whirlwind of paper, and Alice was genuinely touched by the gifts that she was given - things that she wouldn’t have bought for herself; she’d already wrapped herself up in the sweater that Esme had bought her, the softest piece of clothing that she owned. She laughed at Emmett cradling his new Xbox like a newborn, whilst Meg was exclaiming over the earrings Emmett had picked out for Rosalie. And Jasper was already paging through the book that Carlisle had given him, totally zoned out from the chaos around him.

It was like no other Christmas Alice could remember spending with her parents. This was warm and silly and happy and just… easy. Everyone was wearing pyjamas or sleepwear. No one was snapping pictures for social media, or posing in front of presents, or even reaching for their phones.

“Happy, sweetheart?” Esme asked her, as she collected the empty mugs.

“Very, Esme. Thank you,” Alice said, struck with the sudden urge of how good to her Esme had always been. How she’d always been there.

“That’s all I was hoping for,” Esme said, resting a hand on her shoulder before disappearing back into the kitchen.

All the movies were wrong. Apparently, you could go home again.

—

Breakfast was as chaotic and happy as the gift-giving, just like the last Christmas she’d spent with the Cullens. Emmett wolfed down his doughnuts, and Carlisle waited too long to snag his, looking down at the empty box sadly.

And then Jasper slid one onto her plate.

“You move fast, or you miss out. I thought if you’d already hit french fries and pizza pockets, a little old Christmas doughnut would be nothing in comparison,” he murmured and she’d laughed, and taken a huge bite out of it that gave her chipmunk cheeks and Jasper had absolutely burst out laughing, and she’d been trying to swallow the doughnut and neither of them could explain why they were laughing.

And then Carlisle had asked, so hopefully, if there were any more doughnuts, and they’d started laughing again.

After breakfast, there had been a fluffy of activity to prepare for lunch, with Bella and Edward helping Esme clear away breakfast, whilst Rosalie and Meg were put in charge of setting the dining room table, and Emmett was banished to clean up the wrapping paper before Charlie and the Clearwaters arrived.

“Where do you need me, Esme?” Alice asked, stacking the breakfast plates.

“Go and change. You too, Jasper, you both put in the hard yards yesterday, you get to rest today,” Esme said, shooing them both out. “Make sure you wear something warm, Alice. Even with the fire, I’m worried you’re cold.”

Alice laughed at Esme’s fussing and agreed, slipping up the stairs to the bedrooms.

“Alice.”

She turned to look over her shoulder to find Jasper standing there looking nervous.

“I… this is for you. I had Rose’s help picking it out. I hope you like it.”

He held out a small box, and Alice stared at it before taking it and slowly opening the box.

The simple gold chain held a single pearl, one that would sit just above her collar bone. It was simple and perfect, and it made her feel awful.

“Jasper, this is just… beautiful. But… I didn’t know you’d be here and I didn’t have time to do anything…,” she began, looking guiltily at the necklace.

He smiled at her, the kind of smile that always made her feel warm.

“I was the same. Rosalie and Esme conspired against us,” he said. “That was entirely Rose’s doing.”

Alice relaxed. “Tell her I love it. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it. I hope you’ve had a nice morning,” he said, ducking his head.

“It’s been wonderful. Definitely better than Mexico,” she said. “Help me put this one?”

She held out the necklace and turned around. And for a second, she was so aware of his proximity, of his hands gently brushing her neck, that maybe…

Maybe…

“Done.” Jasper’s hands dropped away from her neck, and she turned back around, the moment lost. “It looks beautiful on you.” He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher, and that made her feel nervous.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

He just gave her another one of those crooked smiles. “We’re even. You don’t owe me anything, Alice.”

And he walked back to his room, leaving her feeling like maybe she’d misread him, misread the entire situation and maybe missed an… opportunity.

—

Christmas lunch was… so much bigger and more chaotic than Alice ever remembered. Esme had kindly seated her between Jasper and Rosalie, probably to shield her from the madness of Emmett and Seth at the same table, whilst Esme and Meg kept bringing out the most delicious food that Alice wondered why they’d bothered having breakfast. She had eaten more food just being back in Forks than she had in a whole week back in Mexico.

That was probably something she should address. But not on Christmas. Today, she would eat and be happy and silly and enjoy being with people who hadn’t questioned her sudden reappearance at all.

She couldn’t even finish her food, leaving it to Jasper to finish - like before, when she’d hand over her pad thai for him to finish because he was a bottomless pit, and she couldn’t eat a full container. Easy. Natural.

Probably too easy. Carlisle kept topping up everyone’s champagne, and then Emmett and Edward had attempted to make a holiday cocktail before lunch that had tasted like ginger and lemons and was probably incredibly alcoholic, and she had definitely had a little bit too much to drink.

But it was worth it.

As she watched most of the table assemble enormous second helpings of dessert, she wondered if it could be like this every year. If maybe, even when she had to go back to real life, to work in New York or L.A. or wherever, she’d still be able to come back here. That it would still be the same place, with family.

If there’d still be a chair next to Jasper waiting for her.

That was a thought that made her cheeks feel warm, and she looked down for a moment, before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked softly. He had a tiny drop of meringue on his lip, and she had the sudden urge to lick it off.

 _Definitely_ too much to drink.

“Wonderful,” she replied. “Better than whiskey and ramen?”

He smiled at her, and he didn’t need to do that. She was a goner. Probably since the moment he’d walked back into the house.

“Infinitely.”

—

**jasper.**

It was almost over. Everyone was getting tired, he could see that. Esme had already told Meg she could sleep in Rosalie’s old room, rather than drag herself back home - which was funny since the Whitlock home was only half a block away. Charlie and the Clearwaters had already headed off, making plans with Bella and Edward to see them the next day. Edward looked dead on his feet, but Bella and Rose were still chatting away about the baby.

The baby. Next year, there’d be an extra person at Christmas. That was a trip. Bella and Edward had a house, they had career plans, and a now baby on the way. They had a life that worked for them, and he was… not jealous, but he wanted something for himself. He wanted someone it could be that easy with, that peaceful and happy.

His gaze slid to Alice, perched on the ottoman, laughing at something Esme was saying. She looked so beautiful sitting there in the softest-looking sweater and a skirt that seemed to fit her perfectly. She was still holding a champagne glass, and the alcohol had made her cheeks rosy.

It had been almost effortless to slip into their old patterns, fumbling through all the awkward shit to get back to the part where he could talk to her about anything, say anything, and she’d listen and hear him. The fact that she’d wanted to and allowed it to happen after everything, that was… something.

It had always been easy with Alice, until he’d stopped letting it be. And maybe it could be easy again.

“Okay, I’m falling asleep,” Meg announced, stretching as she stood up. “I love you all, but I need to get some rest.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” he said, standing up to kiss Meg on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, honey,” she said, smiling at him before turning to bestow a hug on Rosalie.

That was the moment that everyone seemed to decide the night was over and it was time to get some sleep. And Jasper stared into the fire, remembering when he was a kid and it was tradition for them to make a Christmas Wish before bedtime - something to look forward to for the new year, his mom had always said.

“You two are the last ones standing,” Esme said; he looked over to see Alice was still on the ottoman, staring up at the Christmas tree with a fond look on her face. “Leave the tree lit when you head up to bed, alright?”

“Okay. Good night Esme. Merry Christmas,” Alice said, her gaze fixed on the reflection of the lights in the ornaments.

“Merry Christmas Alice, Jasper,” Esme said warmly before she turned and headed up the stairs.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, before Alice stood up and made her way over to the couch, stretching as she sank back into the cushions.

“Ugh, that’s better,” she murmured. “I can’t wait til the baby can sit up; then they can sit on the ottoman.”

He laughed.

“Hush! You don’t know what it’s like, being the smallest,” she pouted playfully before downing the rest of her champagne, her eyes widening as something caught her gaze.

“Oh! Mistletoe!” Alice said, pointing up. 

The mistletoe was carefully attached to the light-fitting, hanging overhead, and had been totally ignored the entire evening.

“How did nobody notice that until now?” he mused, staring up at the offending piece of greenery.

The mistletoe spun lazily over their heads. The tree was lit, the fire crackled in front of them, and everyone else was gone. And she looked so beautiful, more beautiful than she’d ever looked in any stupid photo or movie.

It had always been easy with her.

He leant over, gently pressing his lips to hers. She gasped slightly and leant into the kiss.

And that was all it took. He pulled her closer to him, deepening the kiss, their legs tangling together as they tipped sideways on the couch. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she was… _wonderful_. She smelt like Christmas, like cinnamon and the fire and vanilla and cloves. He wanted… to do something really dumb, to peel off all her layers of clothes, and memorise her, marvel that all those years of regret and wonder were suddenly worth it; that she still kissed him like he was the only man in the world.

The sound of a bedroom door closing upstairs made them pull apart suddenly, with wide eyes. It was a full house tonight, and there was no way they could stay on the couch together, let alone see where the night would take them, without getting caught. And her bedroom was sandwiched between Edward’s and Rosalie’s, whilst his was between Emmett’s and the bathroom. Absolutely no privacy.

“We should…” he began, fulling intending to say they should stop. They should stand up, go upstairs and go to bed, and just blame too much champagne and excitement.

Except…

“It’s been a long day,” Alice said finally, sitting up and pulling her sweater down. “I should probably go to bed.”

“Wait,” he said, reaching for her hand, and she looked at him with an expression that fell somewhere between curious and hopeful. A second chance with the smart, funny, beautiful girl who he had loved years ago, even if he had been an idiot about it. He’d be a fucking moron if he didn’t seize this chance with both hands.

“We can go to my place,” he said finally. “Let me just get my keys.”

—

**jasper & alice: interlude**

His bedroom at his mom’s hadn’t changed much since high school. The same bed with the plaid bedspread, the ancient computer on the desk, the posters over the bed.

The damn posters.

The offending one was from some magazine years ago; of Alice sitting on a pier in a tiny black bikini top, an equally tiny miniskirt, fishnet stockings and spike heels. Her eyes make-up was dark and heavy, her lips dark and shiny, and her hair was tousled. As a grown-ass adult, she just looked ridiculously young to him now, and probably exploited - what shitty parent would let an underaged girl pose like _that_ for a magazine for teenage - and college-aged - boys?

But as a teenager, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He’d been dumbstruck by the image, and her suggestive gaze staring down at him had definitely kept him company many nights in high school.

He had vivid memories too, of Alice in senior year, sitting crosslegged under that poster on numerous occasions, without ever telling him it was her. Without anything more than a teasing grin the first time she saw it. Alice, as he knew her, had never looked anything like her poster self. Had never dressed herself like that, or worn makeup or done a damn thing for him to think that it was really her in the photo. After all, what the hell would a damn movie star be doing in Forks, let alone in his bedroom?

Why hadn’t he taken it down?

But adult Alice just giggled at the sight of it, pulling out of his arms.

“Wow, I was so young,” she murmurs. “I can’t believe you _kept_ it.”

“Ignore it. I’ll burn it in the morning,” he said, pulling her against his chest, and sliding his hands under her sweater. She laughed and leant back into him.

“It’s not that bad, Jas. I was more flattered than horrified; those photos feel really stupid when you shoot them,” she sighed as his hand slid over her bra. “And you kept it, so you must have _liked_ it. I’ve probably still got the outfit somewhere.”

He spun her around, cradling her head, trying to move past the idea of her in that particular outfit now. “I liked it when I was a kid,” he said in a low voice that had her bite her lip. “But I’m definitely a bigger fan of the real thing right now.”

“Sweet talker,” she murmured, but he could see a blush on her cheeks as he slowly guided her towards the bed, peeling off sweaters and t-shirts. They were both more aggressive now, Alice standing on her tiptoes for him to gather her up into another kiss; she tasted like champagne and chocolate and he groaned into her mouth as her hand slid down his stomach to his belt buckle.

He’d definitely filled out since high school. They’d never even got close to this back then, but there had been a few kisses. And before they’d dated, she’d seen him with his shirt off, laid next to him on his bed playing video games or talking. He’d been skinnier then; now he was almost intimidatingly attractive. And she was… not at her best.

As he pulled away from the kiss, she looked away.

“What is it? Do you not want to?” he asked softly. They were both a little champagne drunk, a little more vulnerable because of the holidays, and as much as he wanted to sleep with her, he didn’t want her to have regrets or second thoughts. He’d be more than happy to curl up and sleep with her in his arms, or bunk in Rose’s room down the hall if she wanted him to.

“The accident,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes. “There are scars.”

She was embarrassed about her body now; the surgical scars mostly. They were worse down her spine, her right hip, and leg, but there were others - where her broken rib pierced the skin - that one was still a little grizzly; a hand-sized patch where her skin had been torn off when she rolled and had required a small skin graft. Not difficult things to cover with make-up or airbrushing, but undeniable when she was in bed with someone. Or it was now; Jasper was the first person who wasn’t a doctor or a carer that would see them.

She’d imagined what her small pool of exes would have said to her if they’d seen her like this; Garrett would have told her she was hardcore, maybe teased her a little bit. Alistair would have been disgusted, but he was a walking basket case of issues on the best day. And Dimitri would have laughed at her, told her it was a pity and that it was hideous, and headed off into the sunset.

She’d never thought about what Jasper would say.

“I don’t care,” he said firmly, as he turned her head towards him. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

Her heart felt like it was pounding out of her chest as he peeled off her tank top and bra with the look of a little boy opening a present. And he just stared.

“You are… gorgeous,” he murmured, reaching out to touch the slight curve of her breast before looking deep into her eyes. “You’re so _beautiful_ , Alice.” His lips met hers and it was achingly soft, the kiss he bestowed upon he as he pulled her into his lap.

As he guided one leg over his lap, Alice jerked backwards and he froze.

“Sorry.” She looked frustrated and embarrassed. “I haven’t… been with anyone since the accident, and my hip and leg and back are still messed up. It hurts. I’m sorry, I just… I know this isn’t what you want.”

Jasper froze at the look of defeat on her face, and pulled her tightly into a hug.

“Alice,” he said, the lights from the street filtering into his room and making her look like she was almost glowing. “I want _you_. Not a fantasy of you. I should have asked what you needed before we started. If you need us to stop or try something new, we can. I want you to feel good too.”

Alice blushed and looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said softly and leant up to kiss him.

They fumbled through it together; peeling off their remaining clothes before he pulled her back to him, letting her position herself in his lap to prevent pain; his hand rested against her back, his fingers teasing at the thin scar there, where they had put her back together.

He’d thought it would be urgent, maybe a little rough, but it wasn’t. He couldn’t - her big eyes staring through him like she knew every thought in his head; the way she ran her hands over him, like she was trying to memorise him; how she sunk into his kisses. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he’d found something special, something precious, and he wanted to cherish it.

He presses kisses over her face, and over her throat and chest. She gasps as he flicks his tongue over her nipples. He struggles to catch his breath as her hands reach for him, grip him and stroke him as she encourages him in a breathless voice. He has to beg her and kiss her to get her to stop, because he only had so much willpower and control.

He slides into her gently, slowly, his hands bracing her back and hip as she arches up towards him, her hands gripping his shoulders and her head thrown back. She murmurs her assent to move, and they rock together in a pace that makes her feel a little bit too warm, and a little bit like she’s feeling everything too much. When she shifts awkwardly and winces - the pain running hotly down her right thigh to her knee - he pauses and runs his hand down her leg, trying to soothe the pain before he adjusts their position. 

She takes longer than she thinks to reach her peak, and when she apologises, her face buried into his shoulder as his thrusts get a little rougher, a little rowdier, he chuckles and kisses her deeply, one hand slipping between them to rub her clit until she’s seeing stars and gasping out his name hoarsely in the dark.

He cradles her to him, feeling loose and boneless from her orgasm, and picks up the base; he’s so close and she’s so beautiful and perfect and when she presses kisses to his neck, sucking and nipping on the skin, he can’t hold back anymore. His hips stutter against hers, and he groans out her name. He’s not sure how he manages to hold himself up long enough to roll off her, but he’s intensely aware of her, her fragility and vulnerability. He immediately pulls her into his arms and kisses her again, and even in the darkness, he can see the smile on her face.

It’s late - or early, actually - and it’s been a long day; snow is falling and the room isn’t warm but the bed is. It’s easy enough to wrap themselves in blankets and each other and just drift off to sleep and let the morning be something they worry about when it comes.

—

Jasper rolled over as his phone began buzzing, snatching it off the nightstand. Two messages from Esme and five from Rosalie, plus a missed call from his mom. That sounded about right.

A sleepy sigh was what reminded him that he wasn’t alone in bed, and as he looked over at his companion, the memories of Christmas night returned and he just stared.

 _Alice_. He and Alice had slept together.

And she looked absolutely tiny next to him, so slight he could nearly trace her bones through her skin. She had to be cold. He tugged the bedspread up to cover her, as he looked back at his phone.

Both Rosalie and Esme were looking for Alice, though Esme’s messages were far more diplomatic, and reminding them that she was serving breakfast at nine if they were hungry.

It wasn’t even eight in the morning yet, Jasper noted as he replied to them both - Esme politely, Rosalie with several choice emojis - and tossed his phone back on the nightstand. They’d have to be at breakfast, or things were liable to get awkward.

Carefully climbing out of bed, Jasper headed to the bathroom for a shower and trying to get his head around what had happened.

He’d come home for Christmas to find himself face-to-face with … the girl who got away. The one he’d been a total asshole to all those years ago. Yes.

The girl that had looked at him and seen something worthy to befriend, and had never held him even slightly accountable when he’d verbally abused her and then ghosted her for a reason that, in the harsh light of day and as a grown adult, seemed more than justified. Yes.

She’d accepted his awkward apology for being a tool, and they’d had a good time. That the friendship they’d had was strong enough, special enough, for them to pick up right where they left off. And they’d had a fun two days together.

And then too much champagne, surrounded by couples, during a holiday celebration. Some mistletoe, a joke, another drink and, well, this.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly where everything had gone sideways. It was going to be awkward again, distant. She’d go back to Mexico, he’d go back to Seattle, and the next time he heard about her, she’d be wearing a ring worth hundreds of thousands on the arm of some media mogul, and he’d still be working in a bookshop and slaving over his PHD. Or teaching.

_Fuck._

Esme was going to be annoyed with him; the last thing anyone needed to do was alienate Alice further. He remembered how upset, how furious she’d been when the kids at school had finally made the connection between the new girl and the movie star. Alice had been crushed and quickly transferred to online schooling to finish her senior year from the security of the Cullen home. How she never spoke about his anger and behaviour towards Alice, but she’d been a little sterner, a little cooler to all of them until Alice was packed and sent back to New York.

How many times, after she’d been identified, had he seen her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop and a textbook, watching as him and Emmett, Rosalie, Edward, and Bella made plans without her. How, on nights he and Rosalie were staying over, she’d sit silently at the dinner table and he’d ignore her entirely, punishing her for never telling him the truth.

He’d been an _asshole._ And it was easy to justify it, say he was just a kid. And it had never been hard to work out that however rich and famous she was, her parents were, she’d been lonely and miserable. He could still see her face the day after Halloween, when they were lying on his bed playing video games and pretending they weren’t hungover from the party, and she looked at him and told him he was the best friend she’d ever had.

He’d elbowed her and told her to keep her eye on the game. Three months later, he’d gotten up the courage to ask her to a movie, and then kissed her when he dropped her back at the Cullens.

A month after that, he’d yelled at her and told her he never wanted to see her again; humiliated that he hadn’t known who his potential girlfriend was, that she hadn’t trusted him enough to share that secret. That she had been slumming it, being seen with him, when he’d scraped together the cash for that one proper date he’d take her on. He’d thought she was indulging him, someone to pass the time with.

And four more months after that, she’d quietly left the Cullens, and never looked back. She’d arrived pissed off, and departed sad and alone. What a fucking gentleman he had been.

He couldn’t leave well enough alone. Maria had repeatedly informed him that it was because he was a thoughtless, arrogant train wreck of a human being that she was leaving. Maybe she was right.

Stepping out of the shower, Jasper sighed and wondered how he could do this. Walk into the bedroom and face her. He didn’t know what would be worse - if she was angry, or if she was ashamed or if she was sad and quiet again.

Pulling on some clean pyjama pants and a hoodie, he headed back into the bedroom, hoping and dreading that she was awake.

She was perched on the side his bed, a sheet wrapped around her, half-curled in on herself, and looking… relieved to see him.

“Morning,” she managed.

“Good morning, are you okay?” He was immediately at her side, trying not to touch her but desperately wanting to help in some way.

“Not great,” Alice laughed nervously and winced. “I left my painkillers at Esme’s - do you have anything here?”

“Let me go check - do you want to lie down again?” He fussed around her quickly before he fled back into the bathroom to look for some kind of pain relief and a glass of water.

Alice was grateful for the pills, but he had to help her sit up again to take them.

“Does it get this bad often?” he said, as he brought her some clothes - a pair of ancient leggings, a Forks High hoodie, and some socks liberated from Rosalie’s old room - and then helped her dress, as she moved stiffly.

“Not for a long time,” she admitted, relaxing against him as he joined her on the bed. “I think it might be the cold weather.”

“Or the sex.” Fuck, had he said that out loud? Alice was giving him an amused looked, so yes, he had.

“Or the sex,” she agreed.

“We should probably talk about it,” he said, staring at the navy-blue carpet.

“Okay.”

Silence.

“I am so fucking sorry,” he blurted out, finally managing to look at her.

“Sorry? For the sex?”

He was definitely imagining the disappointment on her face.

“For taking advantage of you. For being an asshole back in high school. For not staying longer at the hospital. For everything.”

Alice was giving him a bewildered look. “The hospital?”

“After your accident. I left before you woke up; I was worried about school and work and Maria and I just left after a few days. I figured that Esme was there with you, and the doctors said you weren’t going to die that it was okay. But I should have stayed,” he said.

“You were at the hospital? In Vancouver?” Alice’s voice was soft.

“Yeah, as soon as I heard, Mom got me an airline ticket. Everyone said it was bad, and you always used to talk about how you were alone a lot and I didn’t want you to be alone if you were hurt or if they couldn’t save you. You didn’t deserve that. But I didn’t stay long enough for it to matter.”

Alice was staring at him with wide eyes. “I never knew you were at the hospital. No one ever told me. Or maybe they did, and I didn’t remember. I had a hard time remembering things those first few weeks.” She looks stunned.

“I thought Esme was the only one who came.” She put her face in her hands and when she looked up again, her eyes looked shiny, and she leant forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. Really. That means… more than you will ever know.”

Jasper wordlessly offered her the box of tissues from his nightstand and she plucked one, to dry her eyes.

“You don’t owe me any apologies, Jasper - you gave me one the other day for what happened in senior year, and I accepted it. It’s ancient history now. And you didn’t take advantage of me any more than I took advantage of you. Last night was… fun.”

“Fun,” he repeated.

“Yes. Fun. Because if we call it anything else, I might do something really dumb like ask you to come back to Mexico with me,” Alice said, turning her head to look out the window.

Time stopped as the words sunk in.

“Mexico?” he repeated.

“I hate the house. I hate being in it alone. I hate being alone. And for awhile a few years ago, I had this amazing best friend who I was falling in love with - I’d never worried much about making real friends until I met him. He was incredible. I felt like he actually saw and liked me, not just… a picture on a screen or a set-piece.

“And when I left, I felt … lost. And I did some stupid shit. Like, really questionable stuff. Then I got hurt and it seemed easier to just disappear than walk around broken where everyone could see me. And I spent too much time thinking about the people in my life - the ones I had, the ones I lost, and the ones I wanted.” Alice looked back at him. “So, yeah, ‘fun’.”

He reached for her hand.

“And if I didn’t want to call it ‘fun’ either? Maybe not ‘move to Mexico’, but not just ‘fun’? Would that be something that is… okay?” He asked, squeezing her hand a little.

“It would,” she was looking at him hopefully now.

“So, would it be okay if I visited you in Mexico?”

“Yes,” Alice looked like she was going to cry.

“And maybe even escorted you to your sister’s wedding?” She twisted awkwardly to hug him; she was definitely crying now. His hand fell to her back and her hip, trying to take some of the pressure off them.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he joked, as she sat back.

“Anyone who is brave enough to offer to attend an event with my family for me - especially a wedding - deserves tears,” she laughed, sniffling as she leant against him. “So… when do you think you’ll come to Mexico?”

“When are you leaving?”

—

**alice & jasper - epilogue **

_Breathe in… and out…_

_Buzz._

_In…_

_Buzz._

_And out…_ ****

_Buzz._ ****

_“_ I think it’s already started, darlin’.”

Alice opened her eyes and peered over her sunglasses at Jasper smirking at her from the pool. And she’d be more annoyed at him for interrupting her meditation if he wasn’t half-naked and a little tan and all that muscle…

“I’m _busy_.” As her phone buzzed three more times in succession, Jasper’s phone started buzzing too.

“Time to face the music,” he laughed, pulling himself out of the pool and reaching for his towel. “What time is it back home?”

“Around 8am,” Alice said, watching Jasper dry off with appreciation. “They’ve started earlier than I thought they would.”

“Come on,” Jasper held out a hand and help her to her feet. She was doing a lot better this year; more strength in her leg and hip, a little more weight on her body - she looked more beautiful than ever. But he was a little biased.

There would always be some kind of pain and weakness, she probably wouldn’t ever walk without a slight limp, but she was better. Healing. She reached for the pills a lot less these days, and he considered that a win.

Taking her hand, he pulled her with him into one of the daybeds surrounding the swimming pool and picked up his phone.

“27 missed calls. Rose was up early,” he said with a grin, just as his phone burst into song again.

“Let’s get this over with,” Alice said, settling against him as Jasper swiped to answer the video call.

As soon as the video loaded, Rosalie just started screeching indecipherably before taking a breath.

“ _YOU GOT MARRIED?”_

“Good morning to you too, Rose,” Jasper said cheerfully. “How’s the baby? Where’s Emmett?”

“Kicking my bladder, and making breakfast,” Rose said, glaring down the camera. “You see, I logged on this morning to find nearly _thirty_ messages - most from people I haven’t spoken to since I was in high school - demanding to know if it’s true that my _only_ _brother_ eloped with a _movie star_ in Mexico yesterday. And I said, of course not, he would tell me. He would _invite me_. And then they sent me _the pictures, Jasper._ ”

The photos. They weren’t the actual wedding photos - they had been a posed shoot designed to be released to the media. Alice’s manager had suggested it; Jasper liked Carmen, liked that the woman seemed to understand Alice and actually cared about her wellbeing.

The photoshoot had been over the top, with an elaborate designer gown and jewellery that had arrived with its own security guard, all posed in a beach-side garden almost an hour away to guarantee no one could track them down. It had been a stressful afternoon for him, trying to look natural and like he’d just gotten married, whilst Alice had embraced the role beautifully. The photographer had created gorgeous shots of them - and been paid a hefty amount of money for the honour.

Their real wedding photos had happened at the actual wedding, almost a week ago - just him and Alice on the beach with a minister, his mom, and Esme and Carlisle. They’d both gone barefoot, and she’d worn a backless dress that she’d fallen in love with, scars be damned. Carlisle had snapped most of the photos for them. And they were perfect. Because they were of them, at their happiest moment.

And they were sacred, too, never to be seen outside the family. Alice had already told him her parents would never see the real photos, because she didn’t trust them not to leak them to the media. It had made him sad for her, but she wasn’t bothered. Esme would have a set framed for the house - Meg, too - and that was enough for her.

He’d proposed when they got back to Mexico in the fall; sitting overlooking the sunset, he’d pulled his mother’s engagement ring out of his pocket and asked her with a little speech that had made her tear up. The answer had been yes, of course.

It might have seemed fast to anyone else but it had been right for them. And that’s what both of them wanted - something that made them both happy, together.

But the idea of a huge wedding, with photographers and the media chasing them, with dozens of celebrity guests that he’d never met and she only knew in passing, in some over-the-top ceremony and reception seemed … well, like his idea of hell, and entirely overwhelming to her. They both remembered Cynthia’s wedding to Riley, Marianne’s theatrics, and just the entire debacle, and Alice had looked at him over breakfast and just said, “let’s elope. Real elope, not my family’s idea of elope.”

It had taken a week to organise - Meg was already aware of his plans to propose, having given him the ring, and had been delighted at the idea of her son and future daughter-in-law getting married quietly, on the beaches of Mexico. She had rearranged her entire schedule to attend, bubbling over with excitement.

Alice had invited Esme and Carlisle in a phone conversation that left both Esme and Alice in tears, as Alice confessed that Esme had loved her and taken care of her and been a better mom to her in the last ten years than her biological mother had managed in twenty-eight, and Alice didn’t care whether Marianne was there - but she couldn’t get married without Esme.

They’d debated about inviting Emmett and Edward, but Bella and Edward had their daughter, and Rosalie - who had fallen pregnant mid-summer quite unexpectedly - was in the middle of a flurry of doctors’ appointments that she wanted to get through before Christmas. So, it was just them and - for all intents and purposes - their parents.

They were married. It sounded ridiculous when he tried to verbalise it - “we had a bad break-up senior year, reconnected the Christmas before last, moved in together that January, and eloped less than two years later” - but… she _fit._ He fit. It had just worked, since they left together last Christmas. They’d ended up back in Mexico for a week after New Year’s, and it had been… well, Jasper wouldn’t be forgetting that particular week for a long time. He was pretty sure neither of them wore a stitch of clothing for seven days.

Then reality had kicked in, and he’d had to head back to Seattle - back to work, back to school.

Alice had meekly asked him one evening, if he wanted some company back in Seattle and he’d startled her with his enthusiasm. He’d been reluctant to leave her behind in this empty house, to return to his own empty apartment. No one to talk to, no one to joke around with, no one to wake up with.

He’d been embarrassed by his half-empty apartment when they arrived; especially compared with her house. But Alice had immediately raced over to the window, to stare at the lights, at the Space Needle, happy to be with him, in his home.

He’d loved it too. Loved coming home to find her waiting for him, listening to music or watching TV. Sometimes they cooked, but mostly she’d have food waiting from better take-out places than he’d ever found. Maybe Chinese food just tasted better when you were sharing.

They’d had a few conversations about the future - and Jasper had finally admitted to himself and everyone that he didn’t want to teach. Not straight away. He wanted to write. He’d have to keep the bookstore job, but Alice had encouraged him the entire time - carefully not reminding him that she could easily support both of them if he wanted to just stay home and write.

She’d taken up some modelling work for local indie labels who could in no way afford someone of Alice’s calibre to pose for them, but Alice enjoyed it - less pressure, less judgement, beautiful clothes, and it helped those small labels build their business, thanks to her reputation. She’d always been interested in fashion design, and since chatting with these up-and-coming designers, had started doing her own sketches. Not entirely for fun, but for something. Maybe. In the future.

And now they were here. Married, listening to Rosalie rant about not being told.

“…do you _know_ how it feels to find out that your brother _proposed_ and got _married_ from Twitter, Jasper? Do you?” Rosalie seemed to be running out of puff.

“It was spontaneous, Rose,” he said patiently. “And I didn’t want to stress you out.”

“Oh man, that ship has sailed,” Emmett said cheerfully, appearing in front of the screen holding two breakfast plates. “She broke the sound barrier when she realised, dude. Congratulations, both of you. Edward will probably call later - the Gremlin and Bella both have colds, so he’s had a rough night. Said to pass on his good wishes or something.”

Rosalie was frowning at the screen. “Congratulations to both of you. You seem happy,” she said, begrudgingly. “And your dress was gorgeous, Alice. I want to see the rest of the photos at Christmas.”

Alice smiled brightly. “I’ll bring our album - that wasn’t the dress I wore.”

“What?” Rosalie frowned again before shaking her head. “Whatever. Let me see the ring.”

Alice’s ring was simple - a fine gold band with ageing scrollwork and a modest diamond that looked elegant on her slim hand. Meg had never offered it to Jasper for Maria, but had quickly volunteered it when he’d mentioned proposing - Meg couldn’t remember how long it had been since Jasper had been so… at peace with himself, with his life.

Rosalie recognised it instantly and smiled genuinely. “I am so happy for both of you,” she said. “You’ll take care of my brother, right Alice?”

“I think he’s doing more taking care of me, at this point,” Alice laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“That’s what you think,” Jasper kissed her cheek.

“Okay, that’s too much cute newlywed action this early in the morning. The doctor gave me the go-ahead to fly yesterday, so we will be there on the 23rd,” Rosalie said sternly. “I do not plan to wear pants the entire time, fair warning.” Emmett snorted into his coffee cup.

“It’s not quite that warm, Rosalie,” Alice began as Jasper shook his head.

“My laundry froze in the bathroom overnight, Alice, it will be plenty warm enough,” Rosalie retorted. “I love you, I’ll see you at Christmas!”

“She’s not joking, she literally hasn’t packed any pants,” Emmett said. “Congrats to you both!” And the couple hung up.

“That went better than expected,” Jasper said, as he put his phone aside and Alice’s buzzed again. “You want to call your mom?”

“ _No_ ,” Alice snorted, as she snuggled against his chest. “You must like living dangerously, Mr Whitlock.”

“Only for you, Mrs Whitlock,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“Alice Whitlock,” Alice mused. “I like it.”

“Not Alice Whitlock-Brandon or Alice Whitlock-Platt?” Jasper asked curiously. He’d never considered she’d take his name.

“Nope. Alice Whitlock,” Alice said decisively, looking up at him.

“Well, Alice Whitlock,” Jasper said, slowly helping her turn over so she was straddling his lap, in a tiny black bikini that seemed nearly redundant. “Since our parental figures have taken themselves off on some tour today, and aren’t expected back until dinner time…” His hands drifted to the ties of her bikini top. “And you don’t seem to have any pressing matters to attend to…”

Alice smirked at him. “No ‘pressing matters’, huh?” she said, grinding down on his lap, before jumping to her feet. “Catch me if you can, Jas,” she said, tossing her bikini top onto his chest before she darted back into the house. 

Gaping at his wife’s disappearing figure, Jasper leapt out of his chair and took off after her, leaving their phones behind to buzz away, ignored.

—

_fin._

—

**Author's Note:**

> \- As a deep and abiding apology for the lateness, Miriam, I have also made an extra offering in the tumblr post <3
> 
> \- So much world-building, so little time! I want to make it clear that Alice was an amazing and successful actress before the accident, but it wasn’t her passion in life. I like the idea that the film she got hurt on was some kind of fantasy-dystopian indie trilogy that was hugely popular but never got finished because of her accident. 
> 
> \- The line about living 'like a goddamn ninja turtle' is from John Mulaney's Kid Gorgeous comedy special on Netflix, and is hilarious. Highly recommend.
> 
> \- Whether Emmett and Edward are Carlisle and Esme’s biological children, adopted children, or some other combination is up to you. I think it’s pretty obvious that Esme loves all of the kids, biological or not. 
> 
> \- I know nothing about the following things: getting into law or med school in the US; surgical procedure and recovery; skin grafts; medications; stunt rigging; or acquiring a PHD in American Military History. Please excuse any gaping errors on these subjects. 
> 
> \- Esme’s mother (Alice’s grandmother) was Jewish, and raised both Esme and Alice’s father with some of the traditions and culture, which have been diluted again with Alice and Emmett’s generation (Esme through disinterest and marriage, and Alice because of her parents’ obsession with appearances). 
> 
> -Rosalie and Emmett’s wedding didn’t really get a look in here, but in the nearly-two years that has passed between Christmas and the elopement, Rose finally got her big wedding. I had fun coming up with jobs for both of them - the idea for Rosalie’s job came from staringatthesky’s fics; it’s an amazing job for Rose. 
> 
> \- If Rosalie broke the sound barrier when she heard that Alice and Jasper had eloped, Alice’s mother ripped a hole in time and space. Oh man, Alice’s parents are Not Amused.


End file.
